


Homeward Bound

by Vespera l Vera l (ImJustVerable)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: But the nicknames are in German, Fluff, I love these ineffable idiots, M/M, Nicknames, One Shot, Short One Shot, Translations provided, its night time, they're on a bus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustVerable/pseuds/Vespera%20l%20Vera%20l
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are on their way home after a long day. Miraculously (and blessedly), the bus is void of passengers, and the night is quite lovely. Perfect for some revelations and contemplations.





	Homeward Bound

They were going home. 

An angel and a demon sat together on a bus. They were alone, save for the driver, who had become rather accustomed to the pair in recent months. Of course, he doesn't know who they really are. And he doesn't know what to make of them. But he does know that they're always the last ones on. And similarly, always the last ones off. And most times, they'll sit apart from one another; the lankier man opting for the seat directly behind his companion. But not tonight. Tonight, they seemed...tired. Content, but definitely tired. The driver had nodded to them as they stepped on; but not even the blonde had acknowledged him, which was very unusual; this specific regular would always have a gentle smile ready, at least, if not a good-natured ' _ Afternoon _ ' or ' _ evening _ '. The driver didn't push, however. After all, he would be well out of line, trying to inquire about their personal business. He merely brought the doors to a squeaky close, and coerced the bus into a steady pace. 

Three rows away from the very back of the bus, the pair in question found themselves mimicking their transporter's opt for silence. And they appreciated it immensely when he turned out the overhead lights, leaving them all suspended in the welcome embrace of darkness.

If somewhere there exists a person who has never in their life, had the pleasure of being a passenger in a vehicle sneaking through the night, then they are a very deprived person indeed. For there is naught a more lulling situation. The overwhelming action and activity of the day seems to sleep with the setting sun. Glancing out a window, one will find the stars winking down at them, acting as nightlights for their mortal wards. Occasionally, the light of a streetlamp will fill the car with an orange glow; a soft glow, not meant to shatter the darkness, but to relive the more worrisome passenger of their anxieties. The quiet grumbles of an engine, and the song-like whistle of the wind through an open window act as a lullaby; and with the fresh air, there also comes a drop in temperatures. A chill that hovers perfectly at the comfort level, giving one the option of huddling against another, or simply sprawling out by themselves, and either way, they can be comfortable. This is the kind of experience that every human- and dare it be said, every angel or demon- should have the chance to partake in. 

This angel's forehead was pressed against the cool glass, allowing the draft from a few rows ahead to dance through his curls. His eyes were half open, not quite focused on nothing in particular. But he wasn't unaware of his surroundings. And he certainly wasn't negligent of the warm hand resting atop his own. Every so often, a surge of emotion would race through his body, and one he recognized all too well.

Love. 

And the angel wasn't sure what to make of it then. Because, quite suddenly, he no longer felt as though he was breaking the rules. He no longer  _ cared _ if he was breaking the rules, truth be told- that point was long since past. But acknowledging it now would mean crossing a wire he'd been balancing on for nearly 1,000 years, and it was as though his feet didn't remember the feeling of solid ground.

His eyes flickered to the demon... _ his  _ demon. For a moment, he believed he'd seen the reflection of a passing street-light off the other's glasses- but was faced with the shocking sight of drooping snakes eyes gleaming in the darkness. The angel righted himself, slowly, tilting his head in an attempt to get a better look. The demon, in turn, stared pointedly at the floor, which he may or may not have been able to see.

The angel reached up slowly with his free hand, cupping the demon's chin and gently bringing their gazes together. The demon shifted in his chair, hoping the action was seen as nothing more than a change in position (rather than, say, a nervous fidget). The angel's grip on his hand tightened ever so slightly. And they navigated the twisting labyrinth of emotions  _ together _ , for the first time, in a matter of mere moments. 

And the demon closed his eyes. 

And the angel closed the gap. 

And although that dark and cool and silent bus was already another dimension of its own, the couple had, for just a moment, made their own little world inside of it. Cautious lips came together in a light, chaste kiss. And they waited, giving each other a chance to move away, but neither feeling the need to do so. And then the demon, driven by 6000 years of tested patience, stole another; no more forceful than the first, but taken with a hint of confidence. And afterwards, their foreheads pressed together, and the angel's free hand found its way into the demon's long hair, fingers combing through the auburn waves. And the demon, nearly purring, wrapped an arm around his partner, pulling him close. And he whispered an endearment softly, for fear of the words running off into the night. 

" _ Mein Engel. _ "  [*]

A claim from one drunken night, so, so long ago. But the angel hadn't forgotten it. And although he'd spent most time recently, denying the emotions it brought forth, he'd still taken time to conjure up a response. One he only thought he would voice in his wildest daydreams.

" _ Meine sünde."  _

The demon looked taken aback. 

The angel’s eyes sparkled with mirth. 

" _ Ich liebe dich."  _ He murmured sweetly. " _ Ich liebe dich mit ganzem Herzen. _ " 

And finally, they were home. 

**Author's Note:**

> *The translations here (in order) are along the lines of:  
> “My Angel.”  
> “My Sin.”  
> “I love you.” [He murmured] “I love you with all my heart.”
> 
> Ah, these quick little midnight drabbles. My writing rut seems to be wearing itself out, so I figured I'd give this little idea a chance. Still chipping away at the next chapter of Fate, but the Good Omens fandom sort of stole my attention...and my heart. Honestly, I just love these two. I saw a bunch of stuff about the German translations turning 'Angel' into 'My Angel' and I HAD to do something with that. I don't really have a specific place for this in the timeline, but I feel like there are a few places it could fit in. My biggest hope is that the translations are correct and make sense (I tried to check them on several sources). That all aside, thank you for your time, and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
